Take Me To The Magic Of The Moment
by Blueberry Absinth
Summary: "I wonder what the sun looks like," memories of a sunset on the sand... Toko fluff


**This story is specifically written for cheesyfreezy who expressed some doubt over my madd skillz at subtlety sometime ago :D :D **

**Discl.: If I owned Avatar, then this'd be canon. Instead, it's just a fanfic XD**

**Anyway, I encourage you to review: was it bad, was it good, did it suck? :O :D **

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_~*Take me to the magic of the moment*~ _

_..._

_little by little, it disappears too quickly; I have to catch it_

_..._

_..._

_..._

The sun was finally setting, sending its last bloody-red rays over the top of Ember Island.

The usually green palette of the island consisted now of scarlet and the duller, red-brown of the Fire Nation's clothes. The tall palm trees looked as though they were on fire, with those colours flicking over the green leaves and the dark coconuts. The shadows were already long but it was far from getting dark or cold. Only the tips of the huts were bathed in light but even that little was swiftly disappearing too. The sea was a glaring explosion of all shades of red and orange and yellow and truly a spectacle to gaze at.

The sand had taken up an orange hue and he felt like he was lounging in a warmed mountain of golden dust.

Zuko was killing time by burying his hand in the sand, then lifting it up and letting each grain pass through his fingers. He'd wondered about thinking about deep stuff, like how the sand escaping his hand was like time that slips from your hands moment after moment, as effortlessly as sand. Or how it just wouldn't stay in your hand, just like love did. And stuff like that. But then he'd decided to pass

This was a moment to himself and the beauty and he didn't want any kind of philosophical stuff annoying him with its lack of sense.

But then, the magic of the moment was gone as he heard approaching footsteps and quickly stood up to a sitting position lest somebody saw the mighty prince of the Fire Nation playing in the sand.

However, as he turned and saw who was coming, he breathed a sigh of relief – he needn't have moved at all. It was just Toph. To her, he didn't have to act like somebody else.

She plopped on the sand right next to him and fixed sightless eyes at the disappearing sun itself.

"The sunset must be pretty awesome, right?"

The question was abrupt, almost rude in the way she said it and to whom she said it, but he simply ignored it, having gotten used to that. It was normal for her.

A second too late, he realised with a start that she couldn't really see the beauty spread out to him _(them)_. After the first feeling of pity, which was quickly shooed away, he nodded to himself and turned back to digging in the sand.

"Mhmm."

They stood in silence for a couple of minutes. She was just staring at something that didn't exist in this world, lost in her own thoughts, while he gave a great deal of attention to the sand and even contemplated making a sand castle (embarrassed? Definitely not.)

Eventually she spoke.

"I wonder what the sun looks like," she murmured her question, almost to herself but he heard her nonetheless.

"A giant ball of light?" he offered, rather off-handedly.

She answered him with a light punch on his arm.

"I'm talking seriously," she sighed and moved away from him, positioning her body towards the dying light. Her face was contorted in such a melancholic grimace that his insides twisted, "I've heard so much about sunsets; the ones on tropical islands are supposed to be very beautiful..."

(she wasn't one for showing emotions; he should be either very happy or very, very worried)

And a genius idea flashed to him.

"Hey!"

"Mm?"

"You know... nobody can really see the sun, 'cause it hurts their eyes. Instead... you don't really _see_ the sun, you _feel_ it."

"What's your idea, princess?"

Her eyes were narrowed and face was sceptical.

He refused to waver.

"May I?"

She stared at him for a second or two, wondering what he was up to (he was wondering too), then slowly nodded. He let out a breath he hadn't known to have been holding.

Good thing he was a firebender.

Toph was watching him carefully, feeling his every move with that super-sonic hearing-sense-whatever of hers as he was shuffling from his place closer to her. A second later, she could feel him much closer than usual and much, much warmer than before. His face was very hot – it must be all red, she reasoned and decided to let him do whatever was on his mind. (Come to think of it, it was pretty uncharacteristic of hers, but her curiosity had been too big to turn down his offer.)

That's why she didn't move even an inch as he leaned over her, shadowing the disappearing sun, a titan rising from the ocean (she'd heard a lot of stories like that). Slowly and unsurely, his hands rose to the contours of her face and closed her unseeing eyes. She decided to humour him and let them close. Not that she needed them.

Not to mention his fingers were warm enough.

As his hands descended to cup her calves, he was wondering what he was doing. He didn't have a clear idea what he was trying to do. Hundreds of thoughts were racing in his head: he shouldn't, but she could've stopped him, what the consequences would be.

She just stood there and let him touch her with the hands he had heated up with his firebending.

Experiencing a sunset didn't really include only seeing it, despite the fact that he'd spent who knows how much time just gazing at the wonderful array of colours that only a sunset could give.

No, experiencing a sunset was far more than that; you had to feel it with your skin, the dying rays just barely there, a second more and then gone. The slow tickle of the gradually cooling breeze which would whip your hair up and down. The various emotions swirling in your chest, using your organs as a playground and twisting them to their own desires.

Seeing no defence from her, his palms started working their way up, careful to omit some... regions of her body. Otherwise, it would seem to be a sexual attack.

His touch was feathery, like silk, like the last child in a war-torn world. And its wake, a burning trail was left behind and even if she wasn't blushing (really, she wasn't!), she was trembling just the slightest bit. Gently, he traced indiscernible patterns on her skin, making sure to transfer all of the emotion to her, all the while not making her feel uncomfortable. His fingers slowly approached her arms and then wrapped them in a hold, strong but not enough to hurt her defenceless body. Even closed, her eyes were fixed on her lap and though her cheeks weren't red at all, she was uncharacteristically silent.

It was as though she was under a spell.

(the spell of a sunset)

(or a boy)

And although his hands were not trembling she could hear his heart racing.

And that was the thing that comforted her internal blush and managed to keep the red away from her face.

The only evidence that it wasn't a stranger who was sitting in front of her, too close for both of them.

One of his hands (she was far too occupied with all this warm feeling to notice which one) travelled down her arm to clasp at her fingers. Slowly, their hands curled together and intertwined and she was so hot and she could feel him smiling and—

His lips were centimetres away from hers.

Just then, something clicked.

Pulling away from him in shock, she lost the pleasant warm feeling from before and ultimately regretted doing that. But still. Whoa.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sparky. Haven't you heard of 'personal space'?"

The bizarre atmosphere from before dissolved as they fell back in the routine of exchanging insults. However, no matter how much she called him a girl or a wimp or whatever, no matter how much she didn't like it, somewhere in her mind, there was a teenage girl giggling at what had just happened.

Damn.

...

...


End file.
